Traitor
by Frodo'sPen
Summary: Upon leaving Hogwarts, Jane Moore finds herself one of Voldemort's top lieutenants.  Her role as Dumbledore's double-agent is tricky enough, until an encounter with Sirius Black  leaves her with more to hide than ever.
1. Chapter 1

**Traitor**

Summary: Upon leaving Hogwarts, Jane Moore finds herself one of Voldemort's top lieutenants. Her role as Dumbledore's double-agent is tricky enough, until an encounter with Sirius Black leaves her with more to hide than ever.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing. In fact, I don't even technically own Jane. She was a gift from the Muses.

"[Sirius] was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James' nor Harry's could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn't seem to have noticed."

– J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Chapter 1: The Sorting Hat Knows Where You Belong

When Jane Moore was sorted into Gryffindor, and not Slytherin, there were several ignorant family members who pursed their lips and expressed their disapproval, in various degrees, to her father. But Jonathan Moore, who was not quite so fanatic as his relatives would have liked him to be, merely smiled calmly and replied that if his daughter possessed courage in more than common degrees, he was not unsatisfied, and that it did not signify that she should be disappointing in other ways.

Jane was not the only Pureblood child to be sorted outside of the usual family house that year. Sirius Black, whom she knew only vaguely, also ended up in Gryffindor, and it was with a wondering, almost uncomfortable smile that he greeted her as she passed him to sit next to a girl with red hair.

For Sirius, that was the beginning of a greater understanding of the world, although it could be argued that Sirius had always possessed this understanding somewhere in his being. For Jane, it was the only outward sign of what she had known about herself all along: that she was not, in fact, a Pureblood.

Jane's mother had not been a Muggle, though that would have made the story more daring, but she had been the daughter of a Muggle and a lower-ranking wizard. She had met Jonathan when both were out of the country on some business or other, which neither had ended up accomplishing because they fell in love. Jonathan had returned home declaring he was getting married, but his parents, upon learning the girl's identity, had refused their consent. Maybe that hadn't mattered so much to Jonathan, who had loved the girl enough to fight for her, but when the poor girl informed Jonathan that she was pregnant, there was nearly a small war. Jonathan would not leave the girl, and he certainly wasn't going to abandon his child.

It seemed there was no agreement to be reached, and the Moores' greatest fear – that the affair would become public – seemed about to become a reality, until a miracle happened. The girl died in childbirth.

The Moores breathed a sigh of relief, and Jonathan was left to grieve without commiseration or sympathy. His parents assumed, of course, that Jonathan would get over the tragedy, as the girl ought to have been beneath his notice to begin with. The matter was behind them, and they didn't feel the need to give her another thought.

Except that there was still a baby. When her existence was mentioned, Jonathan came out of his stupor ready to fight again. He wasn't giving her up. He didn't care if she had grandparents who were perfectly capable of raising her. She was his, and she would remain under his care as long as she needed him. It seemed there was never to be an end to the dissent in the family, until Mrs. Moore, out of what kindness she possessed, made Jonathan an offer.

He could keep the child, raise her as his own, and she would be recognized as part of the family, so long as no mention was ever made of her real mother again. Her mother, it would be put out, had been a woman from a rich foreign family, and betrothed to Jonathan before the early birth that had led to her death. The mother's family, in their grief, had cut off all communication with the Moores.

The greatest cruelty perhaps lay in that part of the story, for Jane was never to know her real grandparents. They were refused access to her, and for the right to bring her up in all the privilege and opportunity he had known, Jonathan had sacrificed a great deal of his honor and self-respect.

Jane had been told all this at a young age, and had been given ample time to adjust to it before going away to school, where her family could not supervise her actions and her tongue. She bore her grandparents little ill will, for they had kept up their end of the bargain, and raised Jane as part of their own family. They had even grown to love her, but that love was tainted by the necessity of forgetting who she really was.

Had Sirius known all this about Jane that first night, he probably would not have felt the connection to her he did then. Truth be told, she was far ahead of him when it came to rebellion, and her own path away from the influence of Pureblood politics would always lie in secrecy and deception, rather than open rebellion.

**AN:** This story was in part inspired by a frustration with the overwhelming number of stories portraying Sirius as a playboy. There is nothing to back this up, other than the line quoted above. I believe it's time for another interpretation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Traitor**

Summary: Upon leaving Hogwarts, Jane Moore finds herself one of Voldemort's top lieutenants. Her role as Dumbledore's double-agent is tricky enough, until an encounter with Sirius Black leaves her with more to hide than ever.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing. In fact, I don't even technically own Jane. She was a gift from the Muses.

Chapter 2: Girls in Black Dresses

"I don't understand why we're going," James informed his mother, perhaps in a more whiny tone than he intended.

Mrs. Potter sighed, rolling her eyes in the direction of her sixteen-year old's lopsided tie, but making no attempt to fix it herself. James didn't take the hint.

"Your father feels that by showing ourselves we are making a statement," she said firmly. "All the families will be there, enemies and friends. With growing tensions..." She sighed again. She didn't really want to talk about it. "We need to show we are willing to put our foot forward for peace, James. We need to show we believe this can be solved with civility."

"Sirius doesn't have to go," James muttered. He fumbled with his tie, forcing it further askew.

"He's welcome to go if he wants," said Mrs. Potter, throwing away her resolve and coming to fix the tie for her son. He tried to look annoyed about it. "Though his name wasn't technically on the invitation, your father told him he could go as one of our family."

"He _is_ one of our family!" James said stubbornly, as if in defiance. Both he and Mrs. Potter knew that was not the issue. Sirius didn't want to go because his own parents would be there. "He's...he's hiding!"

"Well, why don't you see what you can do to talk him out?" suggested Mrs. Potter, hoping the solution wouldn't be anything _too_ disruptive. She was as aware of the importance of the event as she was of her son's propensity for mischief.

With a determined look on his face, James strode from the room. Clearly, if he would be suffering, so would his best friend.

Mrs. Potter sighed a third time, and went out to find her husband.

"Get up git," was James' greeting upon entering the darkened sitting room. "You're going to the party."

Sirius didn't even look up at him. "I'm not. Your parents said I didn't have to."

"And I'm supposed to be less offended that you're _choosing_ to abandon your best friend in his hour of need?"

Now Sirius did look up. "I'm not going, mate. That ball will be crawling with relatives. My mum will probably be there!"

"So?" James flopped down on the sofa beside his friend. "No one says you have to talk to her. You'll be keeping me company, and you know _I'm_ not going to talk to her."

"Remus will be there," said Sirius.

"Yep, and Peter," confirmed James. "Probably being fussed over by his mum. If we can get him away, there's every chance we can turn this into a good time." His eyes twinkled.

Sirius couldn't help but be interested. "What did you have in mind?"

"Dropping dung bombs off the balcony?"

Sirius snorted. "That the best you can do?"

"Well, if you had agreed to go sooner, we'd've had time to plan it."

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans in the punch would be my first recommendation," Sirius mused.

"See, mate? We need you there! To make this party what it should be!"

In one last attempt at rebellion, Sirius glared at James out of the corner of his eye, then stood up to go find Mrs. Potter and his dress robes.

The ball was a tradition for the Moores. Every ten years, in the dark of October, the great families pulled their elder children out of classes to attend what was regarded as something more than the usual Halloween festivities. The Moores were private people, but they were traditional people, and the opening of their home to the public this of all years was all the reassurance of a familiarity to uneasy minds.

Jonathan Moore regarded the throng of people attending, all in their finest and most seasonally appropriate attire, with something like distaste. Like many of his public activities, this ball had been at his mother's insistence. He would much rather have let the holiday pass by quietly than maintain the pretense that he believed there could be peace between such differing parties.

"They are all of the same blood, Jonathan," his mother had told him. "_Your_ blood. When we are all united again, as we should be, this night will be a symbol of your strength of character, your unfailing commitment to the ways of our world."

Jonathan had pursed his lips, but had refrained from pointing out that the evidence of that statement's untruth was currently being fitted for her gown.

Jane was a smart girl, all reports said. Within two years, Jonathan had had a personal letter from Dumbledore praising the girl's talents and relating some comments that Professor McGonagall had made to him. Despite all the difficulty surrounding her existence, Jonathan was quietly proud of his little girl.

_Not so little_, he reminded himself now, as she appeared from her rooms to lean over the balcony and peer out at the throng below. She wore black, of course. The Moores always wore black at home, and as Jane also wore it for school, the habit seemed quite natural. But sometimes when Jonathan looked at other children - for instance, at the children filtering in below with their parents, dressed in red and orange and all manner of autumnal finery - he regretted her upbringing, for it was impossible to see it in anything but its true light: the girl was a constant reminder of her mother, to all of them.

Just now, she was waving at someone below. She looked up after and smiled at him, and Jonathan felt the warmer side of his choices in life. He extended an elbow, and Jane skipped over to take it so they both could descend together. From some rat's hole in the wall, his mother appeared to follow behind him.

Sirius was not paying attention to what James was saying. His eyes were on the girl above him. She caught his eye and waved, and he waved back, surprised by her burst of cheer. Then she disappeared to join her family, and the ball formally began.

Peter had instantly agreed to the Beans plan, and James was trying to convince Remus, who seemed to think a prank at a ball was a bad idea. Sirius thought he should join in and help, but he was distracted by Jane. Where had she got to? They never had any time to talk, it seemed. She was always too busy with one project or another. Not that she was a know-it-all, but the girl was just so _interested_ in everything she did. Sirius wondered if her father kept her locked up when she was at home.

"Hello," said a bright voice by his elbow, and to his relief, Sirius did not jump. James and Remus stopped bickering to greet their hostess, and Peter muttered a "hullo" around the cream puff blocking his windpipe.

"I'm glad you're here," said Jane - sincerely, Sirius thought with surprise. "Perhaps now it won't be so dull."

"Whatever do you mean?" asked James innocently.

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Just tell me what _not_ to eat, will you? I'll catch it from my grandmother if anything goes off in my face."

Peter winced, visibly. James kicked him, and Remus rolled his eyes.

"No fair letting you in on things. - Not that there's anything to be let in on. - Everyone should have the same chance, if there were," said James. "Now if you'll excuse us, we need to find Peter a dance partner."

He herded Wormtail in front of him, while Remus followed muttering an apology to Jane under his breath. Sirius brought up the rear, pausing only long enough to whisper, "Don't drink the punch," in Jane's ear.

"It's not that simple, Marcus," hissed James Potter, Sr. "If this continues, it could very well lead to war."

"There have always been dark wizards about," protested Marcus Lupin. "Use your head, Potter! Let the Aurors handle Voldemort. There's no need to raise an army."

"I'd rather raise the army myself, now, before it's too late and it's made up of our children."

"Has anyone had any yet?"

"Shut up, Peter!"

"Has anyone had any what?"

James jumped, then turned to stare into a pair of wide green eyes. "Not really your concern, is it?" he snapped. "And why do you keep turning up, anyway?"

Jane shrugged. "It's this or keep talking to Bella."

Sirius winced. "You can stay, just don't–"

"Tell anyone? I wasn't planning on it."

Peter regarded her warily. "I thought you were friends with Bella?"

"Depends on your definition of 'friend,' I suppose," said Jane. "Narcissa's alright."

"Alright!" huffed James. "Anyone would think you weren't a Gryffindor!"

"Really, Potter? House pride on Halloween? Give it a rest."

"Never! Not while the brave of heart dwell in one House, and the scum of the earth in another! Besides, it's not Halloween yet."

Perhaps thinking it best to avoid drawing attention to themselves when their plan was in process, Sirius did a very brave thing and led Jane away to dance.

James stared after them. "Um..."

"Let it go, James," said Remus.

"I don't get it."

"Sure you do. What if that was Lily?"

James glared. "That's a low blow, mate."

"But fair," Remus pointed out.

Jonathan Moore appeared to be ignoring the two men arguing beside him. He was watching the ebb and flow of the party beneath him, when the slim figure of his daughter wafted by, led by Sirius Black, of all the young men in the room. He had a very unfatherly thought at that moment, as it occurred to him how _safe_ his girl, with her unique heritage, would be with Sirius. For when long ago the prospect of marriage was discussed with his mother, it had been quickly dismissed. Marriage outside of the Pureblood lines would draw too much unwanted attention to Jane and her loyalties, while marriage within those lines could not take place without dishonestly or mistrust. Jonathan, despite his own grim view of the world, would not allow his daughter to be so unhappy. He recognized too, as James Potter was speaking, that the polarization of the wizarding world would inevitably be harder on their children than it was on them.

He turned to his companions, surprising them. "What are you proposing?"

Potter opened his mouth slowly, clearly caught off guard, but this may have been for the best, as Abraxas Malfoy chose that moment to make an appearance.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

They didn't answer him, which was fine, because he wasn't really looking to be answered. With a satisfied smile, perhaps the result of knowing he had ruined the conversation, he reached for the ladle and helped himself to some punch.

"You know, those beans are heavy enough, they probably just sunk to the bottom," observed Remus.

"No chance," said Peter.

"Why's that?" asked Remus.

"Sirius liquified them before we put them in," answered James.

Abraxas spat his drink out over the edge of the balcony, and the resulting spew landed in Bellatrix Black's hair, where it bubbled for a moment before oozing down the middle of her forehead to land along her bosom. There was a moment of silence, and then an angry Bella made her situation worse by drawing attention to herself with a cry of outrage. She ran to her mama, who was as sympathetic as could be expected, and that branch of the Black family left the party early, which was not the worst thing that happened that night.

Still entwined on the dance floor, away from the mischief and mayhem, Sirius and Jane turned slowly. She leaned her head forward onto his broad shoulder to stifle her laughter, and he grinned in general satisfaction with the night and his partner.


End file.
